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Monday, September 24, 2012

An Edsel And The Crown Jewels

Our annualkick-off
event for the summer of ’63 had just begun; neighborhood kids had gathered
around the Zenith in our living room to watch Abbott and Costello
Meet Frankenstein. The local TV station
always ran the comedy the Saturday after school let out. We watched the movie
in a different house each summer. This year it was my turn.

Dad was attending big brother’s baseball
game and I couldn’t wait for my mother to make herself scarce. She’d already hung
around too long. I was worried when the movie started that she’d give us all a
lecture on Mary Shelley and other female writers. I was relieved when she
finally retreated to the room she referred to as her boudoir—to my knowledge the only boudoir in the neighborhood.

Noticeably absent was goofy Andy
Holloway (a.k.a. Hollowhead) from across the street. After his parents’
divorce, Hollowhead and his older twin sisters (see Tight Asses) spent the first
two weeks of every summer with their mom in Redwood City. Today Andy would
probably be diagnosed with Attention Deficit Disorder, but back then we just
said he had ants in his pants. He wasn’t missed because he could never sit
still through an entire movie.

We sat in a semi-circle on the floor—little
natives paying homage to the great god Zenith. It was a reeeaally good part in
the movie, when Costello first sees Frankenstein. We always screamed in mock
terror…but this time someone outside beat us to it—Hollowhead’s stepmom. Wilma
Holloway couldn’t have sounded more upset or frightened had Frankenstein
himself just pressed her doorbell.

We poured out of the house to see what was
up. Wilma was across the street running in circles around the white Edsel
station wagon that was her husband Bud’s reason for living. The Edsel was a ‘58
Bermuda, with the famous (and later ridiculed) horse collar grille, scalloped
indentations on the sides and gull-wing taillights. It sat nine passengers and
was designed as a chrome-and-steel homage to the American spirit. It weighed
nearly as much as a Sherman tank. Bud nicknamed it Moby Dick.

At first we couldn’t tell what had caused
Wilma to come unglued. But we soon pieced together what had happened: Bud had
been in his usual spot on the driveway, tinkering beneath Moby. The huge
station wagon had slipped from its jack and now rested directly on Bud’s chest.
A moment earlier he must’ve barked for a beer and Wilma had dutifully fetched
it, arriving just in time to observe the car slipping onto her husband—the can
of Pabst was still in her hand. Good thing she was prompt with the suds; the
weight on Bud’s chest would have prevented him from yelling for help.

As we stood around like statues, Wilma ran
to the front of the station wagon, tossed aside the beer can and grasped the
chrome bumper in an attempt to lift Moby off her husband. I’ve since read
amazing stories of people doing incredible things when pumped up with
adrenaline and this was undoubtedly the case here. Wilma couldn’t actually lift
the car, but she did budge it enough so Bud could replace some of the air
squeezed from his lungs.

Luck arrived in the form of a Sears
repairman, who was conveniently passing by. The bull-necked fellow hopped down
from his truck and raced to the rescue. Mr. Simons dashed over from the house
next door, which further added to the drama because Bud and Mr. Simons worked
for rival auto companies and detested each other. Mr. Simons and the repairman
quickly re-jacked Moby.

Bud was in the hospital for a few days
with several cracked ribs, but it was Wilma who endured the most pain. She had
damaged her back trying to lift the Edsel and would suffer for the rest of her
life. Bud undoubtedly felt badly about this; there was soon a change at the
Holloway house.

Most people in those days
had push mowers, and mowing the lawn was an unpleasant chore many parents
passed on to their children. But Wilma enjoyed mowing the grass in the front
yard, claiming it relaxed her. Now, because of her bad back, she considered giving
it up. But when Bud recovered from his brush with death he bought her the first
power mower in the neighborhood.

Wilma loved her new power mower, but not
as much as she hated that Edsel. She was not pleased when Bud turned a deaf ear
to her demand that he get rid of it. Wilma never again wanted to ride in the
Edsel, but Bud decided that while on medical leave from the Ford plant he would
load his family into the Edsel for a long overdue trip to Texas to visit his
mama.

Hollowhead’s sisters weren’t pleased to be
pulled out of cheerleader camp. They were at that age when it was a disgrace to
be seen with parents, much less vacation with them. They had no interest in
Texas, unlike Hollowhead who was determined to see The Alamo, even though he
was repeatedly told they weren’t going anywhere near it. Hollowhead was a big
Davy Crockett fan and would still have been wearing his prized coonskin cap if
Ricky Delgado hadn’t swiped it and buried it in a shallow grave in his
backyard.

For most families, having the head of the
family crushed beneath a behemoth car would have topped the list of memorable
summer moments, but for the Holloways the excitement was just beginning.

That dude oughta be careful when he closes the door.It's on the same level as HIS crown jewels.'Abbot and Costello Meet Frankenstein' is my hands-down favorite A&C movie. My favorite line (I'm going from memory, so I may be off):Talbot (the Wolfman): "When the moon is full, I become a wolf."Costello (I forget his character's name): "You and a million udder guys."Okay, I'm off to You Tube to see if I can find that clip.

OMG!! He was really lucky he only ended up with cracked ribs! I remember how happy my dad was when he got his fist power mower. They were a lot noisier and smelly but it made the job a lot faster, that's for sure. BTW--we had a Zenith console TV, too. ;)

Aside: Alan Sherman once theorized, in his magnificently funny book, "The R*A*P*E* Of The APE", that the Edsel was such a flop because it reversed the usual sexual look of American automobiles. Whereas most cars jutted out in the front, in some way or another a phallic symbol, the Edsel more closely resembled a vagina.